The Final Thoughts of a Tyrant
by wynoo
Summary: He lived a lie, a short, but drawn out lie. His reputation, negative. His heart, black and broken. But, who was he really? A story about Gellert Grindelwald.
1. Gellert's Outside Performance

_I've seen your flag on the marble arch. And love is not a victory march. It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah._

_Remember when I moved in you, and the holy dove was moving too. And every breath we drew was hallelujah._

_Hallelujah._

The Final Thoughts of a Tyrant

* * *

**Chapter 1**

It was somewhat like a throne room in the sense that there was a long hallway and a tall chair at the head. And in the chair sat a strikingly pale young man, golden curls framing his haunting, effeminate face. His cinnamon coloured eyes, cold and hard, stared forward with great intensity, and his full, slightly glossy lips were kept in a permanent sober expression, contrasting his eyes. Guards lined the narrow passage, their headgear pulled down low on their foreheads, casting a shadow onto their still eyes. Each guard held a golden, regal spear, perpendicular to the ground in one black-gloved hand and in the other, fingertips gripped black wands. At the end of the hallway, opposite the young man there was a set of doors, held together by _his_ mark.

_Or rather, the mark of what made him so feared. _A circle with a straight line dividing it in half and continuing below; all enclosed by a triangle: the sign of the Deathly Hallows. The man's eyes were studying it when the knock came.

Rather than a knock, it was really a series of powerful bangs on the double doors. In a high, piercing voice, the man spoke, "Enter." Upon his command, the doors burst open yielding to a pair of soldiers not dressed unlike the soldiers standing in parallel rows along the hall. Hands obstructed by the two soldiers' grips there was a man. He was not an attractive man: brown hair, brown eyes, a large nose and a tiny mustache. Despite his discouraging appearance, this man was Muggle Europe's most powerful: Adolf Hitler. And, he had made a grave mistake.

"Hilter," purred the blonde man in a satirical manner. "Good to see you again." If Hitler heard the man's condescending greeting, he did not show it. "I'm sure you know that I am not very happy with you…" a wicked smile played across the man's lips as he stood up, sweeping down the hall to meet Hitler face-to-face. They were so close that the terrified Hitler could smell the other man's slightly floral aroma, and the man could feel Hitler shaking.

"L-Lord Grindelwald, please…" whimpered Hitler, bringing a quivering hand up to push his matted, dark brown bangs a little more sideways on his forehead. "I only-"

"Only what?" Lord Grindelwald exploded, reeling backward in his anger. "Only tried to betray me?" In one swift movement, he whipped out his wand: made of elegant Elder Tree wood, and pressed the tip to Hitler's sweat-glistening forehead. Bringing his tone down to a whisper, Grindelwald drew close to the the trembling tyrant once again. "I could kill you right now for your actions, you know," he taunted quietly. "It would be too easy. But, instead…" he appeared to be deep in thought, flaxen eyebrows knitting together in faux consideration.

"Please!" cried Hitler, tears welling up in his tiny, pig-like eyes. He tried to struggle his way out of the soldiers' grip with no luck. "Please! Have mercy! I am loyal to you! I am forever loyal to you!"

Grindelwald reeled backward again, exploding into a fit of hysterical laughter, a wicked gleam in his eye. The laughter stopped abruptly, and a twisted smile on his face, the blonde snapped forward, jamming his wand deeper into Hitler's forehead. "You are so stupid, Adolf Hitler!" he said. "If you think that senselessly killing Muggles is showing loyalty to me…" he twisted the wand further, forcing Hitler's head back."Then you are sorely mistaken! I instructed you to take control of Europe, not to create a twisted campaign to satisfy your ridiculous doctrine of beliefs!" A line of Hitler's blood trickled from the tip of Grindelwald's wand, down Hitler's nose and into his mouth.

"M-my Lord…" stammered Hitler, almost swallowing his own blood.

"I was to be in charge of your every action!" growled Grindelwald. "You were simply my puppet. But, you have misbehaved, and your reign is over."

"I-I—"

"You will die in exactly two days' time, Adolf Hitler. Whether you like it or not."

Noticing that Grindelwald had delivered the final piece of the intended news, the guards began dragging the sobbing Adolf Hitler towards the doors. The blonde man watched with lingering intensity until the doors slammed shut, the sign of the Hallows reuniting once again. Once this happened, after emitting a small sound of discomfort, Grindelwald shuddered and collapsed, face-down onto the marble floor. His frame seized once and then fell still.

((**wynoo Note)) Hey guys****‼**** Ahh…this is just the beginning~ I've got everything cooking in my twisted brain…hahaha. So to speak. But, I super duper promise that it WILL be rated M for a reason! I hope I can persevere that far. How do you like insane Grindelwald? Everything about his relationship with Hitler will be explained in the next chapter. It's not platonic. Or romantic. At all. xD Await the next chapter! (or maybe it's already up, depending on the time…) **

**By the way, the lyric at the beginning, up by the title…those are taken from the song "Hallelujah" by Jeff Buckley. I've no idea if he actually wrote the lyrics, but that's where I got them from! : D If you've never heard the song, you should look it up, it's gorgeous. I put the lyrics out of context though. **

**Chapter two should be up tomorrow. (:**


	2. Nightmare

_And it's not a cry that you hear at night, it's not somebody who's seen the light. It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah._

_Hallelujah.

* * *

_

**Chapter 2**

Grindelwald was still for quite a while, his flaxen tresses splayed out over the ground on either side of his head. None of the soldiers dared say a word until they knew for a fact that he was indeed out cold. After a solid five minutes, one of the soldiers, a young man by the name of Edward Johan Weiss clicked forward on his knee-high boots and kneeled down next to his fallen leader. Observing the rise and fall of Grindelwald's slender back, he concluded that the man had just passed out from stress. He was quite fragile, really.

Edward emitted a great sigh, shuddering his reluctance through his wide-shouldered, six-foot frame before scooping Grindelwald up marriage-style and standing. "I'm taking Lord Grindelwald to the hospital wing," he said, in a heavy Swiss accent. None of the soldiers dared argue, for they knew if Grindelwald was to wake, there was a possibility they could meet the same fate as Adolf Hitler.

Ignoring his fellow soldiers' cowardice, Edward Weiss squared his shoulders: mentally preparing himself for any number of possibilities. And then, the tall clean-cut soldier carried his fragile lord through the double doors and into the room beyond, all the while whispering prayers to an unknown God. Getting sidetracked as he walked the familiar path to the hospital wing, Edward glanced nervously down at Grindelwald's face: his smooth, flawless skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat and his eyebrows were knit together in a silent grimace; almost as if Grindelwald was crying invisible tears. For a second, Edward Weiss felt sorry for the man he carried; felt like there was something good inside the tyrannical leader. But then, shadows of the chaos in Wizarding Europe filled his mind and the sympathy was gone.

_Grindelwald wouldn't want the pity of a lowly soldier anyhow, _Edward told himself. Though, the expression on Grindelwald's face told him differently…

After a bit, Edward reached the medical quarters of Grindelwald's fortress and was allowed to set the tyrant down on a bed in the infirmary. The doctor, who was seated at a heavy, wooden desk in the corner nodded to Edward's existence with wide eyes before rushing toward the bed where his leader lay, devoting his whole attention to Grindelwald. Edward felt slightly unloved as he turned, walking solemnly back to his post in the throne hall. Walking back, he felt lonely: as if some great presence had left him. It was then that he realised how warm and alive Grindelwald had been in his arms. All of the soldiers considered their leader a cold creature: willing to break anything or anyone that stood in his way. But carrying him, Edward hadn't felt that way at all.

And then, when he was halfway through the hallway outside the infirmary, Edward heard a strangled sob. And he froze for a split second; cold as stone.

* * *

_Gellert Grindelwald shuddered and cried out in his sleep. _

He saw Albus again, smiling, blushing, and saying his name on the other side of the front door before Gellert opened it. Practicing. Something inside Gellert felt warm; a shadow of a better time. But then, the scene changed; he saw Albus and Aberforth standing in front of a casket. Their faces were stained with tears. Gellert's aunt Bathilda was there. She cried, too. And Gellert knew; he knew it was the funeral for the girl Aberforth had killed: his and Albus's sister Ariana. It had been an accident, Gellert knew.

The vision was something the young tyrant had seen himself: through the window of his aunt's house as he was packing his belongings to leave. He'd seen the tearstained faces and the forlorn expressions; but suddenly, his memory zoomed in on a detail he hadn't observed that day. It focused squarely on Albus's face as he turned to his brother. "If only," Albus whispered, hiccupping through his grief. "If only Gellert were here…he would be able to…" his lips moved, but his words faded to nothing. Gellert strained, but he couldn't make out what Albus was saying. Screaming in frustration, he swept away from the window, just as Aberforth hauled off and punched Albus in the face.

The dream twisted and mutated into a scene Gellert had encountered only days before. He had fancied a bit of fresh air to clear his mind, so he'd taken a venture into the areas surrounding his fortress. Everyone in the villages recognised him right away. Some of the villagers cleared the path out of reverence, gesturing and pointing at him; explaining his powerful position to their children or whoever else was near them. Others glowered at him, a hateful gleam in their eyes as they carried out their daily tasks. He offered a queasy smile at a small child, half hidden in her mother's skirt. The little girl buried her face completely before allowing her mother to scoop her up, shielding her face from the world. And then, something that had not passed the lips of the woman when he'd been there before echoed through his ears. "It's your fault my husband is dead," the woman half-snarled.

Gellert all but gaped at her, about to protest when another whisper whizzed into earshot. "My children have been taken away because of you!" an old woman hobbled up to him, glaring something hideous. "You filthy bastard!" Gellert stumbled backward, falling unknowingly into the hands of the now seething crowd. They all yelled the same thing: "It's your fault!"

The villagers' accusations melted together in cadence, and one-by-one they took hold on Gellert's clothing, tearing it with their mutated fingers. Every single one of them had taken the form of a demon; twisted horns protruding from their heavy foreheads, wicked smirks stretched across their hideous faces.

"You think you're better than us!" they hissed. "You think you're stronger than us, prettier than us, more deserving than us!" One of them bit into his neck, sending pinpricks of dreamlike pain shooting down his entire body. He felt something warm streaking down his face, and he realised it was a tear. He cried out, finally taking grasp of his situation. Limbs thrashing, Gellert tried to break free from the demons, trying to explain to them that it wasn't his fault! He'd only wanted to show Muggles how to live! Once he had their control, he figured he could improve their lives. His tyranny was only _for the greater good_!

Suddenly, he was transported away from the snarling demons and deposited in front of a stone establishment. Grayish people were moving about behind a great, metal gate marked: Auschwitz. He stood in silent shock, as the people sent forlorn, longing glances in his direction. A great mass of skeletal forms emerged from behind the heavy, steel doors of the fortress, led by black-clad soldiers. They seemed hesitantly jovial, their naked bodies quivering with anticipation. One of the soldiers turned and said something undistinguishable to Gellert, directed at the buzzing crowd.

And then, the people were led out of Gellert's view. But, he could still see them; could still feel their presence. In frenzy, they all stepped into a chamber with showerheads lining the wall. Gellert's heart seized up in what could've been fear, as if he knew what was to happen next.

Hitler appeared next to him as the showers were turned on. There seemed to be something flowing out of them, but that something was not water. Hitler supplied a jeering laugh as the people in the chamber struggled to remain standing, their lungs pierced by whatever it was being emitted from the showerheads. "You see what I've done?" Hitler growled, almost happily, absorbing the scene with greedy eyes. "I'm taking control just like you wanted." He turned on the wide-eyed Gellert. "This is all because of you!" he laughed derisively. "You made this possible!"

Gellert watched in horror as Muggles; in the showers and elsewhere dropped to their knees, some clutching small children, others alone and forgotten. Tears ran down their sunken faces and they cried out to him, reaching their frail arms to the skirts of his long, black robe. "Please!" they gasped. "Help us!" Gellert looked around wildly, hearing Hitler's laughter in the background somewhere. He searched desperately for a way out; for an escape from what he knew was true. But he was surrounded by the suffering Muggles, crawling and writhing at his feet. A scream ripped from the lips of a little boy as he was shot by a shadow of a soldier. "Help me!" cried the boy's mother, gathering her dying son into her arms. "Why can't you help me?" she gripped his hand with her cold fingers. Gellert's mouth moved, but no words came out. Silent tears poured down his face as the woman sobbed desperately at his feet. The boy looked up at him from her arms, his pupils dilated with pain, blood seeping from his mouth.

"I hate you," the boy whispered before falling still.

The woman howled, and Gellert became more frozen still.

It was too late.

_A bloodcurdling scream pierced the hospital wing and Gellert Grindelwald sat up abruptly, tears dripping into his mouth. He sobbed, clutching his head; he could still feel the bone-cold grasp of the Muggle woman, squeezing his hand as she cried for her son. And, the words of the villagers echoed in his brain: _

It's all your fault.

* * *

**((wynoo Note)) Ahh… I feel as though this chapter seems half-baked. I try to write with emotion, but when I don't cry while writing something sad, I feel like it's not good enough. I dunno. What do you think? Please review in detail, if you can. I'm fourteen, so I have a few years until college – plenty of time to hone my skills (: [ …I hope.]**

**Lyrics, again, are from Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley. **


	3. Stress and Fault

_Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken. Hello, I'm the lie living for you so you can hide. Don't cry._

**Chapter 3

* * *

**

Breathing heavily, Gellert finally gained control of his senses; he was in a hospital room, the doctor was sending sideways, worried glances in his direction every few seconds. Blinking the last tear droplets from his eyes, Gellert kicked his legs out of bed and rose to a shaky stand. "I wish to go to my quarters now," he informed the doctor in his piercing voice. "I am too stressed out to think properly. Please send the mistress to my quarters as well." He pretended to be adjusting the buttons on his floor-length pea coat whilst awaiting the doctor's answer.

"Right away, Sir," the doctor said, hurriedly. "Are you sure you wouldn't like some pain medication…?" he added hesitantly.

"Just do as I ask," replied Gellert passively, beginning to walk out the door. "If she is not in my room within due time, I will issue a complaint," he finished, taking note of the doctor's unsteady mannerisms. As Gellert passed through the hall on the way to his quarters, he couldn't help but wonder who exactly had transported him from the throne room to the infirmary. He mentally went through all the soldiers who'd been there at the time of his collapse in order to keep his mind off of the nightmares.

He decided that the soldier must've been Edward Weiss. Out of all the men in the room, he was the most responsible – the rest of them had probably been panicking. Despite being such a seemingly power-hungry man, Gellert knew each and every one of his personal soldiers; he cared deeply, not about them individually, but the well-being of himself over all—and that, he told himself, is why he'd taken the time to do his research.

Having exhausted himself of anything to occupy his mind with, shadows from his dreamland began to haunt him yet again. Stifling a small sob, he convinced himself that once Hitler was dead – which he would be, in two days' time – all the suffering people he'd seen would be set free. He told himself this over and over again, but not matter how many times the idea was drilled into his mind, it didn't seem to stick. The mother who'd lost her son wouldn't be happier. She would still be missing something very important. The young woman whose husband had been killed in battle wouldn't gain anything back. _And those people! All those gray, skeletal forms suffocating in what they thought was a shower… _his stomach churned as he envisioned their suffering faces, pale and fear-stricken. And their words pierced his mind: _All your fault…all your fault…_

Gellert broke into a sprint down the final hallway before reaching his room. His heart raced and hot tears bubbled down his face. _How could they think it's my fault! _His thoughts screamed. _I was trying to help them! Only trying to help! _He allowed his knees to give way under his weight, and his body plummeted into the feather mattress of his bed. Sobbing quietly, he curled into a ball. _It's not my fault…it's not my fault…._

"Lord Grindelwald?" a smooth feminine voice broke through to Gellert. He looked up, wiping his eyes as they rested upon the gorgeous face of his concubine, Genevieve. "Are you okay?" she hurried over to his bedside, placing a dainty, porcelain hand on his shoulder.

Gellert nodded, his heart rate speeding up, but this time for a different reason.

"I can relieve your stress…" she purred seductively, French origin accenting her words as she ran her thin finger down the contour of his face.

Gellert tried to formulate a legitimate response but his words were lost as Genevieve began unbuttoning his coat. This was the first time he'd ever done anything like this with her. Sure, she'd come in and given him massages and made him herbal tea when he was stressed, but never…sex. He hadn't even thought about sex since he was with Albus…

Genevieve ran her hands down Gellert's smooth, white skin breaking any concentration he might've had on anything else. He watched nervously as she undid the crisscrossing threads that clasped his leggings together, slowly revealing the palest skin on his entire body. He squeaked in surprise at the sudden rush of air between his legs as his manhood was exposed. Genevieve's mouth was just above when something haunting dawned on Gellert – what if this was just another person he was forcing into misfortune.

He gripped her shoulder, stopping her movement. She looked up quizzically and he asked, "Do you want this?"

Genevieve looked perplexed. "What do you mean? I'm yours."

This shocked Gellert even further. "You're mine? But you barely know me! You can't possibly love me enough to want to…to want to…do this!"

Her eyes softened as she realised what he meant. "Lord Grindelwald, this is my job. I'm paid to love you. I'm paid to become your possession. I want this." She kissed the skin below his belly button and moved down slowly. Unconvinced, but in desperate need for something to get his mind off his many troubles, he allowed her to continue.

* * *

_Gellert gasped and a shudder exploded through him as warm liquid spilled from his body. _ A sheen of sweat made his skin glisten and his legs felt like jelly. "Oh God…" he breathed, looking down at Genevieve, who was on her knees in front of him breathing heavily. "You…" his words got all mixed up in his mind. "You…are…" The only garment left on Gellert was his lace-up boots. He reached his arm out blindly, searching for his coat, eyes still trained on Genevieve. Pulling on his pea coat, he sat up and crossed his legs. "Can I ask you a question?" He held out his hand to help her onto his bed beside him.

"Sure, anything," she said, looking a bit taken aback.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" he looked away, fingering the buttons on his coat nervously.

Genevieve frowned and swallowed. "I…need the money. My family needs the money. My father is a prisoner of war from France and without him…my family…" her voice was quiet. Gellert felt his stomach twist into a knot. Again, someone's suffering was his fault.

Thinking quickly, he formulated a response that might change the subject. "But, a pretty girl like you…surely you can simply marry into a rich family!"

"No…" she said, eyebrows knit together. "That's not how it works…"

"What do you mean?" he looked back at her, hoping this was something he had absolutely nothing to do with.

"No, my family is poor. Rich men don't look twice at us! What would society think of him—marrying a poor girl? Even if I did get married, it would be to a man of my economic standing. A poor man," she explained, looking more distressed with every word.

Gellert frowned in thought. "Society…Muggle society…" Genevieve wasn't of magical blood, but from what he gathered from their previous association, she had a fair amount of knowledge of the magical world. "This is why…" his voice trailed off.

"This is why you…what?" she asked, sending him a quizzical glance. "Forgive me," she mended, suddenly, realizing once again who she was speaking with.

"This is why I wanted to rule!" he exclaimed, ignoring her apology. "In the magical world, people marry who they love…not who society allows them to love!"

"You wanted to rule because of love?" she asked, confused.

"No, no, well…you see, originally, I just wanted to take control of the world; I wanted power. But, then, I met this man…and he taught me about…about everything! I...things were complicated between us—it's a long story."

"I have two hours, if you want to tell me."

For the first time in a long time, Gellert felt as if a weight had been removed from his chest. It wasn't that he was eager to delve into his memories, painful as they were, just the notion of someone expressing genuine concern for him was comforting. Though, as she'd said, Genevieve was paid to love him. He ignored this, though, and began telling his story…

* * *

**((wynoo Note)) Ah, I ended it on a cliché there…:P I hope you liked it anyway. This chapter wasn't very fun, because not much happened. [Except for the most awkward line I have ever written in my life. See beginning of the 16****th**** paragraph if you've forgotten…I even italicized it for you****‼**** :P] But, I can't wait to start on the next chapter****‼**** My goal is to depress you as much as possible****‼**** xD (haha, just kidding.) As always, review in detail and thank you for reading this far****‼ ****Try to stick with me until the end. **

**The lyric at the beginning is from the song "Hello" by Evanescence. It's gorgeous, if you haven't heard it, you should look it up!**

**P.S. : This wasn't edited/revised AT ALL. I'm too tired... **


	4. Powerless

_Take what you want from me, it means nothing now. Take everything from me, it means nothing now. _

_Not so easy to forget, harder to forget. Take what you want from me. _

**Chapter 4

* * *

**

_The little boy with the sparkling cinnamon eyes and golden hair, cropped neatly to frame his round, childish face was flushed with happiness as he climbed into bed that night. He could still feel the warmth on his forehead from where his mama had kissed him goodnight, and his hair was still tousled a bit in the front from where his papa had mussed it. But, what made him so giddy with joy was the news that his mother was going to have a baby soon. A little girl; he was going to have a sister! His parents had already decided on the name: Lucinda. The little boy's stomach churned with excitement and he could barely sleep through his eager anticipation. But, he had had a long day, and soon drifted off into dreamland; shadows of what the baby might look like dancing through his mind. _

_Sometime in the middle of the night, a rustling broke through the boy's pleasant dreams. His sleepy eyes blinked open and searched the room wearily. There was something breathing. Fear gripped his heart with an iron fist and he pulled the covers closer around his neck, eyes darting around frantically. The breathing didn't stop and seemed to get closer with every small movement. He could feel it on the back of his neck. Someone was there. Tears welled up in his big, frightened eyes and dribbled down his cheeks. As he was reaching up with a trembling hand to staunch them, a gruff voice hissed in his ear, "Where are your magical powers now?"_

_The little boy's mouth opened in a silent scream as a man's face snapped in front of him. The man was hovering over him on the bed, knees on either side of the boy's body, a wicked smile on his face and a silver gun pointed at the boy's head. Right away, the boy knew; knew the man had done something horrible to his parents. He could see the man entering their room, his gun at the ready. He saw his parents wake up, startled. He didn't hear the gun fire, but he saw their bodies crumple, motionless. Heart racing with new drive, his body seemed to move on its own: his hand shot up and smothered the man's face, nails puncturing the grubby skin. The man screamed with rage and tried to fire his gun, but somehow his fingers wouldn't move!_

"_What did you do to my mama and papa?" cried the little boy, his fear returning. His hand didn't move from its position, keeping the man still. There was a long pause, and anger welled up inside the boy's chest. The man was taking too long to respond! In his anger, green light emitted from the boy's hand and with a whimper, the man fell limp and crumpled off the bed. Not knowing what'd happened, but determined to make sure his parents were okay, the little boy jumped over the man's body and ran down the hall into the room his mama and papa shared._

_He stood in the doorway, tears rolling down his face; his parents didn't move. "Mama!" he shouted, running to the bedside. "Mama!" he shook her limp body. "Papa!" he cried, weak at the knees. "Mama! Papa! Wake up!"Still nothing. The little boy knew in his heart of hearts that they weren't going to move, but a curious notion passed through his muddled mind: _They're sleeping. If I just wait until tomorrow, they'll wake up. _And with that, the little boy crawled, still sobbing, into the gap between his parents' bodies and curled up; his body shuddering with grief until finally he fell into a troubled sleep.

* * *

_

Detective James Parley led his associates into the house where there had been reported gunfire the night before. Someone had called the police when they'd heard the shots being fired, but at the time Detective Parlay'd been working on a different assignment and hadn't the time. Walking slowly and warily through the house, he eventually reached a room to which the door was slightly ajar. Nudging it open with his gloved hand, the detective's stomach took a turn as his eyes rested on three bodies lying motionless in what appeared to be a Queen-sized bed.

"Good God," said one of his associates from behind him. "So there really was gunfire here…"

The detective walked over to where the bodies lay, assuming all three of them to be dead. There was blood everywhere; on the bodies, on the sheets, on the walls… It was a man, woman and child, by the looks of it. All murdered in their sleep…

Looking closer, Detective Parlay saw the child's back rise and fall in deep, separated breaths. "Hey!" yelped the detective. "The kid's alive!" He ignored his detective instinct to leave the crime scene be, and reached forward, shaking the child's shoulders. The little boy's eyes fluttered open and he looked up with empty eyes.

"Who are you?" he asked sleepily, rubbing at the blood that had dried on his face. Then, he seemed to remember where he was and his face twisted in agony. "Mama…Papa…" he whispered, tears slipped from his already puffy eyes. "They didn't wake up…"

"What's your name, Kid?" the detective asked softly.

The little boy peered at him tearfully before saying, "Gellert Grindelwald."

* * *

_Gellert had another nightmare: there was a baby crying. It wouldn't stop crying. He could feel anger that wasn't his, and suddenly there was gunfire. The baby stopped crying. _Gellert sat bolt upright, quivering and touching his face to make sure he was awake. It had been a little under a year since his parents had been killed, and he'd had the same nightmare every night since. He'd been living at an orphanage. Every day, men and woman would come in and try talk to him. They'd ask him questions. He hated all of them.

He knew he had magic in him. His parents had had magic in them, and they were going to send him to school to learn how to use it. Now that he was living among people who thought of magic as an old wives' tale, it was up to him to learn how to use it on his own. Every day he'd practice. Gellert found if he concentrated really hard, he could make things move around him. He could kill things, too. Just like he'd killed the man that murdered his parents. Ending the lives of living things was just a matter of making that green light appear; Gellert could channel it through almost anything. Sticks worked the best. But, when he was really desperate he supposed he could use his hands too.

So far, Gellert had only killed flowers. When the deed was done, he got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach; once he even threw up. After that, he stopped killing.

Rubbing his eyes, Gellert climbed out of bed and padded to the lone mirror that hung on the wall. Blinking, he examined his face. Save for the morning puffiness, Gellert found himself to be sufficiently good-looking but he was sure, like everything else he loved, that would go away given time.

A young woman with wavy, auburn hair peeked in his doorway with a smile, breaking his concentration on himself. She was one of the people that worked at the orphanage. She was called Miss Melody. Gellert didn't hate her. "Hi, Gellert!" Miss Melody said, cheerily. "Are you ready to eat breakfast?

He blinked at her with his hollow, light-brown eyes.

Miss Melody's face fell and she walked over to him, stroking his golden curls. "Did you have a bad dream again?" she asked, not a hint of exasperation in her voice.

He nodded. "It was about my sister." He'd never told Miss Melody or anyone what his dreams were about before.

"Your sister?" she asked. "I didn't know you had a sister."

"I didn't," Gellert said, quietly. "I didn't yet. She was going to be born, but the man killed my mama before…before she had a chance to be born." Miss Melody looked at him, eyes full of sadness and she hugged him close to her. Just like his mama used to do. "You remind me of my mama," he said, as the thought crossed his mind. "Why can't I come home with you?" Breaking from the hug, she stared at him and a brilliant grin broke across her face and she ran out of his room.

Watching her run out of his room like that, though he wasn't completely sure what she was thinking – Gellert didn't know why, but for the first time in almost a year, he was smiling.

_Melody Dupre quivered with anticipation_. She'd never thought of this before! She could adopt Gellert! It was such a brilliantly simple plan. A brilliantly simple perfect plan. Her trembling han ghosted up to knock on her boss's door. "Enter," came a voice. Melody all but dashed into her boss's office, brimming with excitement.

"Miss Mary," she began, trying to contain herself. "I'd like to adopt Gellert Grindelwald."

Mary frowned and wrote something down before she looked up at Melody. "Melody…you know I trust you. You're a lovely girl, and I would love to give you custody of that little boy. But, someone just called to adopt him this morning. They've passed all the paperwork and they're coming to get him this afternoon."

Melody's happiness rushed out of her like dust into a vacuum. "Oh," was all she could say before walking solemnly out of the room.

* * *

Harriet Delogarbin was the pinnacle of social success: her husband, Frank was the head of his company and she was the richest person in her neighborhood. With a two-story, lavishly decorated house and the most recent automobile there was nothing else she needed in life. Nothing else, save for a heir. Mrs. Delogarbin did not want to go through the social and physical strain it took to birth a child, nor did she want to be tied in that way to her husband…it was just too much of a hassle. So, on a rainy Tuesday, she and Mr. Delogarbin paid a visit to the local orphanage.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Delogarbin! Welcome to Cherish Home Orphanage!" smiled a brown-haired middle-aged woman with a big smile as she welcomed the Delogarbins inside. "My name is Mary, I'm the owner, we spoke on the telly. What kind of child are you looking for?"

Harriet turned up her nose at the peeling ceiling and yellowing tiles lining the floor. When she was finished mentally prepping herself to pretend like a caring person, she turned to Mary and said, quite honestly, "Any child will do." She didn't really care; if he or she was unruly, Harriet could just send them abroad for schooling.

"How about a boy?" suggested Frank who, in contrary to his wife, was in awe of the orphanage. He'd never set foot in an establishment quite like this one, and he was fascinated.

"Alright," Mary smiled warmly. "I have just the child for you. He's a bit…difficult, but he's really a sweet kid."

"Difficult is fine," replied Harriet curtly.

Mary nodded and led the couple down the hall. She was almost sure they would like Gellert about as much as he would like them, but on the slight chance they would hit it off, she would do anything to get that kid out of her orphanage. It wasn't that she disliked him, it was just that he gave everyone such a hard time. As she'd said before, he was difficult. But, 'difficult' didn't even begin to cover his baggage.

Tapping her closed fist on his door lightly, Mary said in a singsong voice, "Gellert, there's a couple here to meet you!" As usual, no answer came from within his room, but Mary knew Gellert wasn't sleeping. He never slept during the day; just lay awake staring out the window like some soulless being. She pushed open the door. Surprisingly, Gellert was sitting cross-legged in the center of the room, eyes closed in concentration. _He's doing it again! _Mary's heart turned cold as stone, and she approached him slowly. "Gellert, are you awake?" she spoke rather loudly.

At the sound of her voice, Gellert's eyes snapped open and for a second Mary thought she saw them flash green. Dismissing this, she did her best to smile warmly, sitting down on his bed and gesturing for him to do the same. Mr. and Mrs. Delogarbin sought out two chairs against the wall in front of a large window and sat in them, gazes fixed on the boy called Gellert. Harriet's first impression of him was that he was the most stunningly gorgeous child she'd ever seen in her life. Milliseconds later, a plan struck her like lightning.

"Hello, Gellert!" Harriet pasted on her best fake smile. "My name is Harriet. What do you like to do?"

Gellert stared at her with dead eyes. She'd never seen a young child with such an aged expression.

Mary interjected by patting Gellert encouragingly on the back. "Tell them what you like to do, Sweetheart!" Gellert didn't say a word. Mary sighed. "Come on Gellert, you've got to show this nice lady how special you are!" And boy was he special. In the middle of the night, when Mary was making her final rounds down the hallway, she would sometimes see oddly coloured light coming from underneath his room. When she opened his door to check on him, she would find him sitting in the center of the room, not unlike he had been when she'd came in today. There was something very, very wrong with Gellert Grindelwald.

Finally, Gellert opened his mouth. "I like to colour, and paint and sing." It wasn't untrue. Gellert did like all of these things. Mary couldn't deny that he was a very talented child; just strange.

"Wow!" gasped Harriet, seemingly dazzled by this response. "What a lovely boy you are! You're gorgeous! Did your parents have golden hair like you?" she got up and flounced across the room to touch his hair. Her emotions were only half-genuine.

"Yes they did," he said, looking at her seriously. Gellert sensed her halfhearted praises and bit back a smart comment. He didn't like her, but he wasn't going to needlessly display hate. Nothing to be gained from that. He smiled as an amusing thought crossed his mind: _a year ago, I would've been flattered by this woman. A year ago, I wouldn't have understood her deceit. A year ago, I was different. _Then, Gellert realised he missed the little boy from a year ago. His eyes stung.

Harriet stood up abruptly. "I've seen enough of this child!" she exclaimed, her mind adding the garnishes to her brilliant plan. "Miss Mary, I'll contact you tomorrow morning about my decision. I need to sleep on it." She smiled and exited the room, pulling a very confused Frank behind her. Once she'd breezed down the hall and out the door, purposefully ignoring Mary's disgruntled cries, Harriet explained the plan to her husband. "Did you see him?" she hissed excitedly. "Did you see that boy's face?"

"Yes," said Frank. "Never seen such a sad look in my life—"

"No, no! Frank, you're such a simpleton. That boy is gorgeous! I'm going to adopt him. I'm going to adopt him and then send him to a modeling agency! Do you know what kind of money a face like that could bring home?" she was almost hopping to the automobile parked feet away in her glee.

Frank opened the automobile door and peered at his wife over the top. "Harriet, we have plenty of money."

Harriet ignored him and slid into the passenger seat. "Frank, no amount of money is enough. You could be fired tomorrow, there could be some sort of disaster – this child is the jackpot I've been looking for!"

Frank sighed. "I'm not opposed to money, Dear, but keep in mind: children are hard to take care of. You have to put in time and effort; who's to say the boy will even enjoy being in the modeling agency? What if he wants to become an artist…or a doctor? Harriet, you can't just adopt a child because he can get you richer."

Harriet stared incredulously at her husband before deciding to comply with his insanity. "Fine, Frank. Let's just adopt the child. I like him anyway." This was a lie, of course. Harriet would do anything to get Gellert Grindelwald in her clutches… he was made for her, she was sure of it. God had sent her a gift!

* * *

_The next morning, Gellert Grindelwald was adopted by Harriet and Frank Delogarbin. He had no say in it. Hands pressed up against the window of their fancy car, Gellert watched the orphanage get smaller and smaller. Miss Melody was nowhere to be seen. In the back of Mr. and Mrs. Delogarbin's car Gellert Grindelwald realised he was helpless; just as his parents had been at the time of their death. And this realisation made Gellert want to curl up somewhere cold and dark. He didn't want to end up like his parents. _

_As the automobile pulled up in front of a mansion Gellert assumed belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Delogarbin, he began to cry. He cried for his parents, for his sister and most of all, he cried because he was powerless. Controlled by the world, and completely and utterly powerless.

* * *

_

**((wynoo Note)) I don't like this chapter that much. /: Which is why I didn't edit it. ._. I'm really on a bad streak here... Ah, whatever. I was excited about writing it, but things just get mixed up in my head – I'm not so good at explaining things… - 3 - Ehhh… What did you think? Please review (: **

**Song lyrics: Impossible by Anberlin**


	5. Magic is Power

_They'll never see, I'll never be. I struggle on and on to feed this hunger buried deep inside of me._

**Chapter 5

* * *

**

_Gustav never saw himself as a particularly unkind or nosy person, but as he gripped his camera to his chest outside of Frank and Harriet Delogarbin's house, he found himself hanging on to every word that was being said inside the door. His face was hot, and he was trembling. Muggles could be so impossibly mean to each other at times. They fought over such petty things… There was definitely a child in there, and a mother he assumed to be Harriet Delogarbin. She was not happy with the child. Mad at him over something stupid…_

"Gellert, I do everything I can to make sure you make it big in this damn business, and you're nothing but an ungrateful little shit!" Harriet growled, pulling her adopted son closer to her by his collar. His face was swollen from where she'd slapped him moments earlier, and he was biting his lip trying not to cry. As Gellert peered up at her with his glassy brown eyes, Harriet felt her anger leave her in a rush. She fell to her knees, powerless to his stare. "J-just do what mommy says, okay?" she requested lifelessly.

Gellert had never thought of Harriet Delogarbin as his mother; not once since she'd adopted him one year previously. Just as he was getting used to the new house, just as he started thinking things might look okay she bundled him up and drove him downtown to meet some sort of talent agency big shot. The building had had too many people; too many cameras. Everyone was fawning over Gellert, playing with his hair and telling him how cute he was. He remembered the following days ever too well.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" and "Do you mind if I take your picture now?" He smiled for so many cameras. He wore so many different clothes. His hair had been straightened and curled, his eyelashes coated with makeup and his lips covered in sticky gloss. Harriet took him to many different places, with more cameras still; she called him a 'star'. He was six years old, and life was already a living hell.

"Mommy, can I have candy?"

"No, stars don't eat sugar."

"What about hot chocolate?"

"Chocolate is sugar."

Even on Christmas, he hadn't gotten anything but new clothes to wear at photo shoots sent from his agent.

The date now was June 1st 1932 and a young man was coming to take the Delogarbin family photo. Gellert didn't want to see another camera, not at home. If the Delogarbin house could even be called home. He'd thrown a fit when he'd found out, and Harriet had lost it. Said he was greedy and ungrateful. Said she did everything for him. But she didn't. She didn't do anything except drive him around and force him to make money for her.

"Now Harriet," said Frank softly, emerging from the hallway and patting his wife on the back. "The boy is only telling you how he feels, no need to get mad." He helped her up and then leaned down to pick Gellert up. He refused to be touched, and ran to his room. Frank sighed dejectedly. _If only I didn't have to work so much, I might've been able to save that boy from my wife…_ his discouraged thoughts swam through his mind.

_Gustav realised the conflict was over, and came to the conclusion that he should make his existence known. He nullified the concealment charm he'd placed on himself and raised a nervous, trembling hand to knock on the door, hoping the fight wasn't a reoccurring incident. _

"Gellert, the photographer's here!" called Harriet, hearing the knock on the door. "Comb your hair and come here!" she turned to her husband. "Frank, get the door, will you? I'll go make sure Gellert is getting ready…" she disappeared into the hallway and Frank moved slowly toward the door, dreading what Gellert would do when faced with yet another camera.

The photographer standing behind the door was a tall, medium-skinned, black-eyed young man wearing an expensive dark-red turtleneck. His dark brown hair was pulled lazily into a ponytail that ended somewhere near the small of his back. Though dressed semi-normally for visitors to the Delogarbin household, there was something oddly different about him. He seemed out of place there. Frank ignored his tingling nerves and invited the young man inside, politely asking his name.

"I'm Gustav Krum," the man said with a slight Bulgarian accent, shaking Frank's hand gingerly. "You are Frank Delogarbin, no?" He offered a smile. Frank returned the facial gesture and confirmed Gustav's inquiry, just as Harriet appeared next to him, dragging Gellert behind her. Gellert's face was ghost-white and his short hair was neatly combed back away from his face. Frank felt so sorry for him.

"Hello, Mr. Photographer. I'm Harriet Delogarbin and this is my son, Gellert. He's adopted, but as much of family as anyone," she explained, artificial sugar coating her words.

"Ah, interesting." said Gustav, eyeing the boy curiously. "Are you ready for picture?"

"No!" Gellert exclaimed, squirming and trying unsuccessfully to pull away from his adoptive mother. "Please don't take a picture!"

Gustav frowned, not because he was irritated with the boy's actions, but because he was trying desperately to figure out where he'd seen that uniquely beautiful face before. It had been a couple years ago, possibly in the newspaper… he turned to Harriet. "Sorry to change subject, but did you by any chance adopt child in Switzerland?"

Harriet looked puzzled. "No, what a weird thing to say. We adopted him here in England, but," she paused in thought. "It's possible he was born in Switzerland. You know those adoption agencies…" Gustav's eyes widened as he remembered when he'd seen the boy before. Visually darting from Harriet to Gellert, his mind made all sorts of wild assumptions and finally rested on a slightly relevant solution.

"Gellert," he said, leaning down to the boy's eye level. Taking his wand out covertly he held it so the boy could see. "Do you know what this is?"

"A stick?" tried Gellert.

"No, it's a magic wand. I bet you didn't know I was a wizard," Gustav grinned. "I'll show you something really cool if you let me take one picture."

For some reason, Gellert knew Gustav was telling the utmost truth. Frank and Harriet suppressed giggles as Gellert nodded seriously. "Okay," he said. "You promise?"

"Yes Sir," Gustav's smile grew and he mussed Gellert's hair affectionately.

_Harriet and Frank were uninterested in petty child's tricks, so they disappeared into a back room after Gustav had finished his pictures. As promised, the photographer lingered to show Gellert a magic trick. _He sat down at the Delogarbin's ornate, dark wood kitchen table, gesturing for Gellert to take a seat next him. Wolfishly eyeing the vase that stood as the table's centerpiece, he pointed his wand at it, transforming it neatly into a white mouse. Gellert watched earnestly, pretending he wasn't surprised. But, his wide eyes when the little mouse skittered across the table, snuffling all the way gave him away. Gustav looked on the child proudly. "Cool, no?" he quipped.

"Yeah…" breathed Gellert, gathering the mouse up in his hands. "I always knew magic was real."

"You are really called Gellert Grindelwald, no?" asked Gustav, balancing his chin in between his hands. "The boy whose parents were killed when he was no more than five?"

Gellert nodded, staring at Gustav with the same wide eyes he'd looked at the rodent moments before. "How did you know?"

"Because the newspaper article written about you is on my study wall," the photographing wizard said. "The wizarding world thinks you're dead."

"There's a world for…for magic people?" gasped Gellert, pressing his palms to the table excitedly. For the first time since his parents' death, a glimmer of his old self shone through, his cinnamon eyes sparkling wildly.

"Yes Sir," said Gustav. "There are even schools for it. I work at one, taking family photos is just a temporary job for me. How would you like to attend Durmstrang Academy when you turn eleven?" Gustav's black eyes shone with pride.

Gellert's face lit up and he nodded fervently. Then, his gaze crawled slowly to the wand. "D-do you mind if I try something?" he asked. "With your wand?" Gustav frowned, and rolled his wand hesitantly across the table to the child, more out of curiosity than anything else. Gellert held the wand gingerly between his index and middle fingers and pointed it at the mouse, considering sending the green killing light at it for a second. A jet of fear issued itself from his heart to the rest of his body as he realised what he'd just thought. _I can't kill the mouse! _His mind lectured, appalled. So then, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and thought of flying. Gripping the wand lightly, he swished it buoyantly and flicked sharply upward, sending the mouse jetting into the air. Training his wand at the perplexed, levitating mouse, he moved it around the room, a laugh escaping his lips. After a time, he brought it back to the table and set it down lightly, looking at Gustav for approval.

The Bulgarian wizard stared at him incredulously and struggled for words. "Y-you are the most brilliant…" he breathed. "You're a genius!" he exclaimed, leaning forward and gripping Gellert's small shoulders." How would you like to become a magic student right now? I'm sure I can arrange your enrollment in Durmstrang early!" Gustav was giddy with excitement.

But, just then, curious about the commotion in their kitchen, Harriet and Frank Delogarbin emerged from the hallway. "What's this about enrollment?" Harriet asked, sourly. "My Gellert isn't going anywhere with you."

"Mommy!" Gellert yelled, his voice rising a couple octaves. "I have magic powers!" he jumped out of his seat and ran over to Harriet. "The man said he could take me to school right now!" he looked over to Gustav, who nodded encouragingly, despite his rather uncomfortable expression.

Harriet brushed her adopted son to the side lightly, rolling her eyes. "He's just kidding you," she said. "Magic is all an illusion. There's no _school_ for it, silly boy."

Gellert glared up at his mother indignantly. "Yes there is! Durmstrang Academy! I'm gonna go to it! He said so!"

Harriet stared down at her six-year-old and then at Gustav, who was half-sitting half-standing awkwardly behind her kitchen table. "Don't you feed my son those lies!" she growled. "Get out of my house, scum!"

Gustav obeyed, walking quickly for the door. But before he exited, he pointed his wand at Gellert and said silkily, "_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

Gellert squealed as he rose inches off the ground at the command of Gustav's wand. His cheeks flushed with pride as he looked down at Harriet. "See?" he said, before Gustav set him back down and slammed the door. When the flabbergasted Harriet rushed to the door to catch the lunatic that'd just made her adoptive son _fly, _the man had disappeared. Gellert didn't care what she did to him after she closed the door; his heart was beating with new speed. He wanted magic; _needed _it. Magic was _power_!

* * *

**((wynoo Note)) Oh gosh, you guys! This chapter was SO much fun****‼**** I love how it turned out. :3 Did you get that Gustav's last name was Krum…like Viktor Krum? Yeah, he's supposed to be Viktor's great uncle. It's not canon. xD Oh well :P So, Gelly is finally sure about magic, and hot damn he's good at it! :D The next chapter will be about his adventures at Durmstrang, and his connection with Edward Weiss. Haha, Edward Weiss is my favorite OC in this, next to Gustav. I imagine him to look something like a young Germany or Holy Roman Empire from the Japanese anime, Hetalia: Axis Powers – if any of you know what that is. But yeah, him and Gelly go WAYY back; even if he doesn't know it! Haha, I'm writing a lot – but that's because I'm ****ü****ber excited that I finally wrote something I'm proud of! u **

**Song Lyric: Lies by Evanescence 3 **

**Love you all & PLEASE REVIEW****‼**** (please.) **


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